The Rise of Power
by Bakura2
Summary: Bakura is determined to own all seven Millennium Items and rule the world. This is his story. This is my story. Welcome to my world, where Gods are no more fit to live than mortal man, and mortal men are Gods.
1. Introduction

Alright. This is my second Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfic, the first of which won't be released on the internet unless I receive requests to do so. Be advised that I know what happens in Yu-Gi-Oh! up to where the Japanese episodes leave off, and I go by the original, Japanese plot. So if something seems odd or different to you, it's probably just because you've been watching the English Version. This story may contain spoilers. All my work is licensed to me and me alone. If you want to use it in any way, you have to ask me first but I'll be happy to let you as long as you ask!  
  
My favorite character is Bakura and so most of this story will be based around him. He's insane, power-mad, brilliant, insane, devious, and insane. Just like me. I'm not afraid to use profanity or blood in my stories, so be advised. But one thing you won't find here is sex or any of that shit. I'll leave that to the worthless gutter writers whose only inspiration is Playboy and dirty anime pictures. Enjoy the show! 


	2. Bakura's Dream

Chapter One: Bakura's Dream  
  
The window was open. Cold air wafted in, spreading its eerie presence around the large room. A mist had gathered in the night, creeping in upon the sleepy town like an alley cat. It seeped under doorways, through mouse holes, tree trunks, loose boards and cracks in ceilings. It moved on silent haunches, smothering the city in its essence. The fog almost seemed to hide what truly lay hidden and in waiting in that city; an evil so powerful thousands of years had passed since such a danger was posed.  
  
The room was large and barren. The mist settled comfortably on the worn carpet, the moisture burrowing into the fibers as it sat. The room grew musty and warm, tropical. The air became humid and hard to breathe. The figure inside the bed began to tremble in his sleep. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room, besides a lonely wooden chair that sat facing the one window in the room, as if hoping for better days. The boy writhed under the thin covers, thrashing out with his lanky arms as a nightmare consumed him.  
  
The bed sheets were ragged and see-through, a product of years of sad neglect. The boy sat up with a jolt, scaring several crows outside his window, perhaps waiting for the dawn to belt out their harsh song. Mist swirled and spiraled around him, disturbed by his sudden movement. Still unsure of whether he was still dreaming, he tried to fight the fog. He clawed at it and kicked the covers off frantically, eventually giving up and lying in the fetal position on his bed, trembling.  
  
He glanced down to where his bed sheets had landed on the floor. It looked so far away, he couldn't reach them. He dare not. There could be someone, something. Under his bed. In his closet, behind him. He shook violently from head to toe, a mixture of fear and temperature. Sweat beads strolled happily down over the bridge of his nose, dripping off and plopping lightly onto the bare mattress, where they were quickly absorbed. His shaking hands grasped at his own chest, coming to rest on the Millennium Ring that rested against it.  
  
He glanced downwards, locking eyes with the Ring. This thing, this thing that had ruined his life. Ruined his dreams and his aspirations. For years he had been a bright-eyed and happy boy. A fantastic student, he even skipped several grades. College was easy enough, with all the extracurriculars he had on record. But that all changed when his father brought this cursed piece of metal back from Egypt.  
  
Oxygen came rarely, like a defeated army in retreat, slipping back to the base at a slow trickle. He ran the fingers of his left hand over the Ring gently, letting them dip and rise with the perfectly carved grooves of the artifact.  
  
"Spirit, the spirit. Get out." he stammered, trying to muster the strength to speak. "Get out of my head, out my life!" he shrieked, ripping the Ring from his neck and reeling his arm backwards, as if to throw it.  
  
Suddenly, his arm froze. There, in the night, his hand stopped instantly. The Ring remained clutched tightly in his grasp. The broken string wavered limply, hanging down over his fingers, intertwined with itself. The mist hovered over the room, holding itself perfectly still in anticipation. Slowly the hand and fingers regained movement, but they did not finish their throw. Instead they carried the Ring back to the boy, who held it up to his face. It was not a boy's face, no. Not a boy's face at all, but the face of an ancient. A powerful, evil ancient. The face smiled at itself in the reflection of the glowing Ring.  
  
"I see you've grown tired of our partnership, little Ryou. I am fed up with sharing this mortal vessel as well. After all, flesh and blood is so vulnerable." he mused, his voice deep and incredibly menacing.  
  
He dug his fingernails into his own wrist and chuckled wickedly to himself as spots of dark crimson appeared, running down his forearm. His caressed the blood, spreading it around his arm in an interested sort of fashion. His eyes burned bright; the color of red-hot liquid silver.  
  
"I will give you your freedom, in time. But for now I need your connection to the Yugi child and his friends. Deliver me the Puzzle and I will sever my bond to your mind." he spoke simply, grinning as if he knew the reply to come.  
  
Ryou's transparent form appeared beside the body he once controlled. His head was buried in his hands, his long white hair shielding his eyes from view.  
  
"No, I can't do that to Yugi. He's my friend. My friend! Have you ever had a friend, spirit? Of course you haven't, you haven't got a heart! But I do, and-"Ryou was cut short.  
  
"Enough of your complaints. Refute my demands and you'll never be rid of me." the being ordered.  
  
"Damn." his eyes filled with tears, streaming down his pale cheeks. "Damn it!" he seethed.  
  
Falling from the bed, the vision of Ryou collapsed upon his knees and buckled, left lying whimpering on the wet carpet, wrapped in fog.  
  
"My conditions are accepted." 


	3. Malik's Decision

Chapter Two: Malik's Decision  
  
((For those of you who don't know, I go by the Japanese plot. In that plot, 'Marik' is called Malik. 'Odion' is called Rishid. 'Ishizu' is called Isis. The Millennium Rod is also a dagger. It has two pieces: the dagger fits inside the sheath and forms the entire Rod. This hasn't been shown in the English episodes yet. If you need any other info to understand future chapters, I'll put it in like this. Oh, and FYI, I do not own any of the Yu- Gi-Oh! characters or anything related to the franchise.))  
  
Malik had been awake for hours, portrayed by the dark circles underneath his piercing eyes. He sat on the edge of his bed, the sheets cast aside and barely even slept in. He was hunched over with his head resting on his fist. He scowled, his eyes focusing on the card caught between his index and middle finger: The Winged Dragon of Ra.  
  
The faint tapping of footsteps became clearer as Rishid entered his master's bedchambers. He knelt before Malik.  
  
"You called, master Malik?" he asked, head bowed.  
  
Malik set his card gently upon his bed and pressed his fingertips together gently, pausing for a moment before answering.  
  
"Yes. Rishid, the time has come to claim my rightful position as Pharaoh. I must acquire all three God cards in addition to the Millennium Puzzle." he replied, closing his eyes thoughtfully.  
  
Rishid raised his head, looking rather surprised.  
  
"Master, you cannot do this on your own. Please, accept my humble assistance." he insisted.  
  
Malik's eyes opened wide, the veins bulging as red hot blood pulsed through them. His head snapped up as his eyes met with Rishid's. Full of fury and malice, they pierced right through the older man. He curled his fingers around the Millennium Rod at his side and, with one swift motion, bashed Rishid bitterly across the face. Malik smirked cruelly as he felt the hard metal break skin, the grin growing even wider at the sight of blood. Rishid put his hand to his cheek gingerly, wiping away the red liquid. He winced from the pain.  
  
"Fool! Yami is no match for my power, nor is Seto Kaiba. Both their God cards are within my grasp, but taking them both down will occupy great amounts of time. Time is one thing I cannot afford to waste. You will assist me, and others as well. But you are not indispensable. Remember that, Rishid."  
  
"Yes, master. Who are the others you speak of?" he asked, wiping the remaining trickle of blood from his lip.  
  
Malik got to his feet slowly, the Millennium Rod still in hand. Small droplets of blood fell from the scepter, left by its master's cruel attack.  
  
"Apparently a spirit has taken refuge in the Millennium Ring, much like the ancient presence in my Item." he said, more to himself than Rishid.  
  
"But master, if the spirit of the Millennium Ring is as dangerous as yours, it could pose more of a problem than a help." the servant offered, his eyes following Malik around the room.  
  
"I do not foresee a problem. The presence, whatever it may be, is not totally aware of the ancient writings, fortunately for us. It is only after the Millennium Items, and it's easy enough to manipulate, with the right bait of course."  
  
"Bait?"  
  
"Yes, Rishid. My sister's Millennium Necklace will do quite nicely."  
  
Rishid nodded and rose to his feet, standing behind Malik.  
  
"And what if Isis refuses to grant you the Item? What will you do then?"  
  
Malik chuckled to himself and closed his eyes for a moment. He rested both hands on the Millennium Rod as he turned slowly and opened his eyes simultaneously, coming to face his servant. He lifted the Rod in front of his face and slowly separated the two pieces, drawing the fearsome dagger from its sheath. It glinted dangerously in the firelight from the torches hung on the wall.  
  
"If she will not hand the Necklace over to me, I will take it myself, by whatever means necessary."  
  
The two departed on foot. Battle City was not far away, and World Domination was only a few paces further. 


End file.
